Talkin' 'bout My Boy

Gender reveal is one of the most exciting things during a pregnancy. Finally you can stop calling the baby "it","she/he", or just plain "baby" and finally give it a legit name or nickname. Before we found out Cid's gender we called him "fetus" or  "feetz" for short. Although medyo na attach na kami sa nickname na "feetz" easybells lang, let it go (like Frozen) and embrace the very first information that gave our little peanut an identity.
Hubby dreaded a girl, he knew the little struggles being around girls from having two challenging sisters, losing his parents at an early age and having to take care of them. Marrying a strong headed woman himself, he knew what he was going to get into if the ultrasound showed no magic stick. I on the other hand felt it was a boy, I had all the common "side effects" of having boys. I had totally abandoned my eyebrows, forgotten my fashion sense and never wore deodorant at home, o di ba diyosang diyosa!

First time in over 5 months that I actually thought
of exfoliating and making use of a face mask.

Finding out that we were having a boy was both exciting and nerve racking. Thankfully I have a bit of experience with handling boys from being tita of my sisters two boys. But even so, I couldn't help but wonder if, aside from the looming fear of being a crap mom, if I would be able to handle or relate to the little boy swimming around in my belly. How about the dream of pink sparkly things and little baby doll shoes and smocking dresses that I had secretly planned to hoard once I found out I was having a girl?
Thankfully the gender disappointment didn't last long enough to bother me, or make me feel guilty, and I began to remember all the fun things I planned for my sisters boys when they were little. Scavenger hunts and water gun fights, staying in and watching them play video games. And then I realized I have the privilege of raising a good man.

I've always wanted a boy as my first born ever since I started thinking of having a family of my own. The fear of relating to them is completely normal, but to be honest when you're right smack in the middle of it, it just won't matter. What matters is, ten fingers, ten toes, a strong heartbeat and a very healthy new member of the family.